


another one of those days

by emseeyou (plumsicle)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Depression, Dissociation, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Pretentious, Reader-Insert, Suicide Attempt, lol that tag exists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 00:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15084800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumsicle/pseuds/emseeyou
Summary: peter is a big comfort character of  mine, and i made this a while ago trying to cope. i hope it helps someone else out there toothe title is a reference to one of my favorite songs by robbie/cavetown. i know the lyrics don’t match the story perfectly, but it really set the mood for me and i love it, so i recommend listening to it if you can





	another one of those days

**Author's Note:**

> peter is a big comfort character of mine, and i made this a while ago trying to cope. i hope it helps someone else out there too
> 
> the title is a reference to one of my favorite songs by robbie/cavetown. i know the lyrics don’t match the story perfectly, but it really set the mood for me and i love it, so i recommend listening to it if you can

No tears. The only thing that graced her face were the breeze and the fading remains of the unforetold summer rain, falling through her cheeks. The light behind her eyes had been claimed by the moon, that was starting to unfold itself between caramel clouds. The warm sky had never looked as soft or gorgeous, but it wasn’t enough. She looked up with frustration painted on her traits, as if a deep breath should have been enough to unlace the knot strangling her throat.  After that, it took barely a second for her body to take the lead.

Step by step, closer to the close. Noise only sounded right if it came from her earphones; but the last song had finished playing, and everything else, the cars, the people, the city, had come to static. The tender wind shook her school clothes gently against her body. Just, it wasn’t hers anymore. She was watching everything from her own shoulder, where the two sides of her moral compass had bailed on her. She let her bike rest on the hot concrete. The cars passed with more eagerness and proximity by the second. Until she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to be there to witness that poor girl’s destiny. She appreciated the red and orange from behind her eyelids, only revealed by the sudden beams of the road... And then came the hit. 

It felt different than expected. Faster but, at the same time, softer. She had only imagined it as a cold thump that would become warmer and warmer with the rush of her own blood. Next, the inevitable coldness of her empty body. But that never came. And neither did the cold thump, or the crowd surrounding the red river emanating from her head, from her daydreams to reality. It felt like a hug. And soon she was floating, flying,  _swinging?_  

Her earphones unplugged and her eyes opened up suddenly at the loud and prolonged honk of a car, revealing the New York skyline. She felt something holding her waist tightly and turned her dizzy head to peek behind her. 

A red blur. What took a moment to decipher as words, warned her to not look down. Soon after, she filled her own worn shoes again and felt her legs tense, lowering herself on the rooftop of an office building. The smear adopted the traits of the local super-hero, that was only able to mimic (y/n)’s shocked expression behind a film of anonymity. 

“Wow, better pay more attention next time, young lady. You could have gotten hurt!”, he said with a high tone, slipping words after overcoming the surprise, like trying to compensate for the lost time. She wanted to reply to him, thank him, but parting her lips felt like too much. She took that moment of awe to gather some energy. “It’s getting pretty dark, mind if I take you home?”. 

* * *

After a minute of breathtaking suburban views, and interleaved numb and distressed thoughts, they made if to her front door. This time her mouth did manage to voice a ‘thank you’, as muffled as it had been. She walked to her building and into her empty apartment just to sit on her bed, shock half-overcome, and slowly took her shoes off. The notification on her phone shone brightly against the dark background of her bedroom, stealing her attention. 

**1 new message from “Peter”**

> 5:37pm.    _hey (y/n)! up to something tonight?_

**7:10pm. _message me when you read this_**

> 7:11pm.   hi pete, anything wrong?
> 
> 7:11pm.    _just wondering if i could go to your house for the project?_
> 
> _i know it’s kinda sudden_
> 
> _but we couldn’t talk before_
> 
> _i’m actually close so i can be there in no time_

She wanted to take down the offer, but a second thought was enough to persuade her. She didn’t want to be alone after what had happened. 

> 7:12   sure, give me a few minutes

Walking back through the open door, she headed to the small bathroom and stared at her dull reflection. First on the sink’s pout, then on the mirror. Her hair was still humid and, soon after, her eyes were too. Peter would notice. When she had calmed down, (y/n) heard a quick knock on her window, loud enough to be heard from the other room she was now standing in. She reached her head out of the door frame to see the hooded teenager through the thin curtain and walked over there. 

“You  _were_ close.”, she said while opening up for him and half-smiled. 

“Sorry about the fire escape, I remembered the...  _thing_ didn’t ring last time, so i just...” He took a breath. ” _Those are a lot of stairs._ “ He could barely think, let alone talk, as outworn as he was; the towering anxiety of his voice overshadowed by his panting.  

“You know I don’t mind. Come in.”. Letting place for the boy to stumble into the dim room, she went to the other side of the room to turn on her laptop, because, the last time someone had stolen Peter’s backpack, meant losing all of his progress. And with that, her patience. To fuel the plight, his built computer couldn’t handle sending more than a low quality image per e-mail, and it would be uncanny the time when he wouldn’t have to reschedule a plan impromptu. _If he wasn’t the luckiest to have her._

Peter sat on her desk intending to finish what was left of the project but distracted by his hazy thoughts. He felt his heartbeat stop and his muscles tense up as a thump made him twist instantly on his chair, only to  discover a spread (y/n) on the cold bed-sheets. 

“If you need to rest, I can finish it in the meantime.”, he told her with a cotton-soft voice after a short sigh. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.”, she murmured, his heart’s rhythm settling with every word that escaped the beautiful prison of her lips, of her mind, of  _her_. 

He took slow steps with light, careful feet until he hit the end on the bed and sat down with his hands by his sides and protective shoulders. “Do you want to talk?”. He  _needed_ to talk. An tell her how much he loved her, and how much he would have missed her. He wanted to cry his eyes out and hug her as tight as his throat had felt when he had recognized her on the mirrored skyscrapers, between the carefree sunset and the materialized stress of the city. But she needed him more. 

A tear rolled down her face, betrayed by the light of the computer screen and silence prevailed one more time. He grazed her arm with a shill look that only he could understand, and soon she was grabbing onto him again. The feel of his skin made her mind dispel, and she knew; she had always had him. On those days when her body would flinch upon the thought of leaving bed, and she felt like life was nothing but a meaningless commitment. She didn’t know if any of that would ever change. If those days would stop barging in with vampire teeth and claim the life out of the prison she was imposed to call by ‘her own’ name. But she had him. And it was all she needed to know. 

**Author's Note:**

> spidey probably retreated her bike, don't worry  
> (i wanted to write that but i don't think i will, i'm sorry)


End file.
